The Sign
by CarpeDiem75
Summary: Sara receives the gift she's been dreaming of. Spoilers thru LLV. Please read and review.


A/N: Characters are borrowed. If this site were a library, I would owe a big fine for having them too long. A big thanks to my beta, Daphne, for all her help and encouragement. She is the best!! Enjoy and please review!

Sara tore into the small package. Only seconds had passed since she shut the door on the deliveryman, but all patience escaped her the moment she noticed Grissom was the sender. Quickly discarding the brown paper, Sara opened a red, 6x6 box to reveal two pieces of wood and a handwritten note. She sat where she once stood, laying the contents of the package on the cold, tile floor of the townhouse's foyer.

Upon further examination, Sara realized the wood pieces were carefully sanded and shaped into the form of human fingers. One of the pieces united a left-hand thumb and forefinger into a "L" shape. The other piece appeared to be a pinky finger. Each piece had a small, circular nub at its base. Noting the absence of the middle and ring fingers, Sara took a second look in the box. It was empty. A wry smiled played at her lips. Only Grissom would send her a dismembered, albeit fake, hand as a present.

Setting the box aside and resting her head against the wall, Sara breathed deeply trying to slow the rapid beat of her heart. He was certainly adept at transforming her into a giddy schoolgirl, she thought, her smile widening. Taking another deep breath, she turned her attention to the note.

"_A beautiful thing never gives so much pain as does failing to hear it or see it." -- Michelangelo_

_The words aren't mine, but the sentiment is. I planned a little treasure hunt before I left. Follow the clues to find the rest of the gift. I miss you._

_Grissom_

Sighing, she stared at the signature. He signed "Grissom," not "Love, Grissom. She felt his love in the lightest of touches, saw it in the most casual glance, but ached to hear the words. She furrowed her brow in frustration, rereading the note as if she had overlooked the endearment she so desired. It was not to be. Sara shrugged her shoulders to release the weight of her disappointment and let her eyes drift to the bottom of the page where Grissom had drawn a short crossword puzzle. The first clue was a three-letter word describing "the highest point."

"Top," Sara answered audibly. The next clue was equally simple. An office was "a place to do paperwork." Well aware of Grissom's disdain for administrative duties, Sara couldn't help but grin at this prompt. "Shelf" and "duplicates" were the answers to the remaining clues.

Sara mulled the results of the puzzle carefully. Obviously, Grissom was directing her to the top shelf of a bookcase in an office. She was relatively sure there was nothing on the top shelf of the bookcase in their home office, but walked into the spare room to be sure. As expected, it was empty. He must mean his office at the lab, Sara thought to herself. Glancing at her watch, she realized she didn't have much time for exploring before the start of the night shift. She would have to hurry to avoid her teammates who didn't expect her back at the lab for another three days.

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A half-hour later, Sara was furtively scanning Grissom's varied collections for duplicate objects. She found a footstool crammed in a corner and climbed on top to get a better view of his books. It wobbled under her feet and she made a mental note to remind Grissom to replace it. The top shelf was devoted to his favorite artists. She immediately noticed two copies of Michelangelo: The Complete, Sculpture, Painting, Architecture and selected the one on the right based on the relative newness of its spine. Just as she pulled the book from the shelf, she heard the door swing open behind her. Sara turned to get a glimpse of the intruder. The sudden shift of her body caused the stool to give way beneath her. She, along with the book, fell to the ground with a resounding thud.

Brass squinted in the dim light of the office, paling at the sight of Sara sprawled on the floor.

"Sara!" Brass stepped to her side. "Are you okay?"

In stunned silence, Sara clutched her left wrist to her side. Brass knelt in front of her, lifting her chin with his finger.

"Hey. Are you okay?" He repeated his voice raspy with concern.

Sara blinked, her eyes regaining their focus. "Yeah, I think so. I slipped off of the stool." She scanned the floor for the book.

"What were you doing up there?" He stood, offering Sara a hand to help her to her feet.

"I needed to borrow one of Grissom's books." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a hinged, wooden box. The jacket of the art book she thought she had grabbed lay at its side.

"Is this what you are looking for?" Sara watched Brass pick-up an item from the floor. Giving it a quick once-over, Brass broke into a wide-eyed grin.

"Going somewhere?" He questioned mischievously, handing her the oblong-shaped, heavyweight piece of paper.

Sara gasped. It was a plane ticket to Boston. Feeling a blush rise to her cheeks, Sara raised her head to meet Brass' gaze. He was still grinning.

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." He pulled her into a friendly hug, placing an affectionate kiss on her forehead.

Sara broke the embrace and retrieved the box from the floor. She winced in pain, switching the box from her left hand to her right.

Seeing her expression, Brass reached for her left elbow, gently raising her forearm toward him. Sara's wrist was considerably swollen.

"This might be broken. We should go to the hospital."

She ignored him and escaped his grasp, placing the wood box next to the red one on Grissom's desk.

"Sara?" Brass said, concern replaced by curiosity.

She removed the final piece of the puzzle from the box. It was the missing part of the wooden hand. The middle and ring fingers were folded in toward the palm.

"What in the world?" Brass exclaimed. He watched as Sara fit the three pieces together. She smiled as tears filled her eyes. Fully assembled the hand signed "I love you." Sara blinked, trying her best to keep the tears at bay.

"Care to fill me in?" Brass questioned, moving closer to the desk to obtain a better view of the completed puzzle.

"Not really," Sara said smiling. Using both hands to push herself up from Grissom's desk chair, she again grimaced with pain.

"We are going to the hospital," Brass commanded, dragging her out of Grissom's office. "There is plenty of time before your flight."

Sara acquiesced, glad to avoid further questioning. She closed her eyes during the ride to the hospital, reveling in the euphoria brought by Grissom's gesture. He had finally revealed his true feelings and in a way so personal actual words would have paled in comparison.

Casually wiping a stray tear from her face, Sara glanced at Brass. He shivered slightly and reached to raise the temperature of the truck. Sara hid her smile at the passing thought of removing her jacket. The warmth in her heart radiated throughout her body, sheltering her from the cool Vegas winter.

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Grissom stood anxiously outside the gate of Sara's flight. Brass had called from the hospital to let him know about Sara's fall. Sara called too, just prior to boarding the plane. Their conversation was brief with no time for "I love you." The words danced on the tip of his tongue, but died on his lips as they had so many times before. He had finally found a way to express feelings, to expose his heart to her, and now he waited for her response, breath baited by fear of rejection.

Grissom leaned against a wall far away from the large airport windows scared his reflection would show he was as naked as he felt. He shook his hands trying to dismiss the tingling in his fingertips, silently cursing himself for resisting the urge to calm his nerves with a glass of scotch from the airport bar. Vulnerability is a bitch, he thought as he watched the passengers from the plane begin to flood the terminal.

Grissom's heart skipped at the sight of her. Noting the splint on her left wrist, he raised an eyebrow with worry.

Meeting his uneasy gaze, Sara shook her head and raised her bandaged arm. "The agony, " she said pausing to use her healthy hand to pull his lips to hers for a brief, but promising kiss, "and the ecstasy."

"I didn't realize we shared an interest in Michelangelo," Grissom murmured into her ear. He pulled her closer, deepening their second kiss.

"I have a new found interest in both art and language." She replied, stepping out of his embrace. Sara raised her injured arm once again, this time with her fingers posed to sign "I love you."

Swallowing the catch in his throat, Grissom leaned in, touching his forehead to hers. "I love you too."


End file.
